


Stargazer

by dsw78



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fix-It, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Reconciliation, Slow Burn, pretty much M besides a bit later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-09 02:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsw78/pseuds/dsw78
Summary: (Shadowbringers/5.0 Spoilers)An alternate path of events following The Dying Gasp.





	1. Acheron

An infinity of darkness surrounded the Warrior of Light, set apart only by a single spark in the closed palm of her hand.

In that space between worlds - between time itself - she considered what course of action she could, or rather, should take in that instant: spare the clearly dark-corrupted and warped soul in front of her, or deliver him to his ultimate resting place?

She thought back on all the villains that she had fought, of their minds and hearts twisted into what they were by the empty promises and metaphysical chains of powers beyond them… 

For all that she had done, all of her rights and all of her wrongs: she had learned.

Her arm began to draw back, her legs set apart as if she were launching her spear at another target, another kill to add to her already bloodied hands, but this time -

This time would be different.

_No one should have to die today if I can do something about it._

She steadied her aim as the final drops of melted auracite fell out of the tempered sorcerer’s chest, and listened as the cries of her friends for her to act - to end this once and for all - faded away in the omnipresent dark. As she felt her hand open, the light of her soul cutting through Hades’ magic, her will remained constant.

_For those that I can yet save._

* * *

The narrow spark expanded into the morning sunrise on the rooftop of the Amaurotine Capitol, the Warrior of Light’s shadow at last returning to its rightful place beneath her. Dawn’s bright oranges and yellows filtered in through the sparse cloud coverage, a sight that was odd to behold, especially considering how deep they were beneath the sea.

The sight of Ardbert, however, drew her attention more than the beautiful star in the distance.

He was turned around, facing in the same direction as her, so she couldn’t see beyond him to what had attracted his gaze. A certain easiness was present in his stance, as if an unbearable weight was suddenly lifted from his shoulders and shattered before him.

Sensing eyes on him, he turned around to face the Warrior of Light - his principal soul, he had realized - and sighed.

“You and I, we’ve always got to try to make it so _everyone_ survives, huh?” She watched as a grin spread across his face, his body slowly turning into its composite aether and rejoining with her. The warrior raised a hand and watched as he faded away into his life’s source, wearing an expression of warmth and acceptance.

He turned back around, looking at a swirling mass of darkness, as far as the Warrior of Light could see, before facing her again. “Well, I suppose you’ve got work to do.” His body was almost completely invisible now - even to her - and his grin grew even wider. “I won’t keep you waiting any longer. Just… use our powers for whatever _you_ think is right. Promise me that...hero.”

The last word was spoken without a hint of malice, contradictory to how he had often said it, as the spectre in front of her dissipated completely. She felt her soul begin to mend itself, the pieces shattered from containing five Lightwardens’ aether reattaching and growing stronger, yet she could still sense an odd imbalance inside of her.

She put those thoughts aside for the time being, instead turning her attention toward the unknown object that had caught Ardbert’s eye.

Squinting to help her make out the details in between the dark haze swirling above it, her eyes widened as she realized that it - or rather he - was a person.

There laid Hades, now in the flesh and his more recognizable Imperial attire, but lacking the trademark smug expression and perpetually dead eyes she had come to expect every time she looked at him. In their place was a man convulsing wildly, dark aether spewing out of every orifice as the remaining auracite fashioned itself into a collar to try to contain the veritable void of Zodiark’s power it was attached to.

Spurred on by Ardbert’s parting words and a sense that she still had a large role to play in this piece, the Warrior of Light moved towards her enemy quickly but cautiously. Wouldn’t do to get hurt immediately after finally beating him, would it?

The black haze surrounding Hades split apart as she approached it, the abundance of light within her causing it to shrink away.

She drew Grenoldt’s hastily crafted gift - a decorated trident - from her back and placed a foot on top of the Ascian’s writhing form, spear tips positioned close over his heart (or where she thought it’d be, anyway) in the event that he would fall again to the elder primal’s influence and try to kill her. 

_Gods, I hoped that what I tried to do worked._

At her touch, Hades’ body reacted violently and began to shake more - his body, so accustomed to dark aether as it was, rejected her own light as best as it could, but without Zodiark metaphorically behind him there was little that it could do.

She figured that she still had time before the Scions and the Exarch rematerialized nearby, and decided to act before they could stop her. 

With a disdainful expression on her features, she took her left hand off of her weapon and placed it in the air above Hades’ face, channelling some of his excess dark aether into her body. The imbalance that she had felt earlier, despite not being overly worrisome, would most likely be rectified if she took in some of the oppositely aspected aether of her enemy. It would probably help his body right itself, too.

The abyssal substance coiled up her lance and through the air between his face and her hand, drawing a sudden gasp from the tired woman as she coerced it into herself. Pure hate, rage, and... slight, hidden betrayal radiated through her body, the feelings a byproduct of the battle they had just waged and Zodiark’s temperance fighting to maintain control. Hades’ emotions reminded her of what she had felt coming off her fellow azure dragoon during her and Alphinaud’s rescue of said man from his draconic prison - both Nidhogg and the Ascian’s aether conveyed the anger of a thousand thousand years and the myriad hopes of a race turned against by the world they seeked to inhabit.

The power of the dark elder primal caused her to falter slightly - only for a second - but it was enough to spawn countering thoughts:

_This is a stupid idea. I don’t know why I thought that this would work. Just because Zenos was able to control a primal with his manufactured echo and hate for me doesn’t mean that I’ll be able to break the millennia-long hold of Zodiark on an Ascian. Even Ysayle, for all that she was worth, was unable to fully channel Shiva. Why should it work for me? What’s different here?_

“I’m… stronger now,” she bit out in response, hands quivering but still taking in all of the dark aether that she could manage, the imbalance in her soul already tipping towards equilibrium.

Hades’ convulsions on the rooftop slowed as she rectified the balance in both their souls, Zodiark’s power diminishing rapidly. The Warrior of Light began to hear shouting behind her, her friends asking her what she was doing, what in the _seven hells_ she was doing, why she hadn’t killed the Ascian, but she tuned it out. Although both the auracite and dark aether had settled down considerably, she could still feel the pull of Zodiark, no matter how faint, and she would not stop until that was gone entirely.

She felt Alisaie’s hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention to explain to them her plans, both in the moments just prior and what she planned to do as a result of all this. 

The champion of the Scions felt, in her aetheric connection to Hades, the mild yet forceful tug of Zodiark cease, followed by a complete cessation of movement in the man himself and in the auracite around his neck. Though it was difficult to tell from the angle that she was looking at him from, it seemed as if he had gained a shadow - perhaps as a “parting gift” from his beloved primal.

The Warrior of Light removed her hand from the air above Hades’ face and turned slightly to face her compatriots, spear remaining in place - just as a precaution.

Their faces wore a myriad of emotions - fear, horror, curiosity, anger, disgust - but hers was resolute and calm, ready to explain why she had spared their worst enemy.

Thancred raised his hand and opened his mouth to speak - or yell, presumably - but was cut off by a hand from Y’shtola.

The feline woman looked at him from the corner of her eyes, a strained patience evident in her movements. “I would very much like to hear what our _hero_ has to say before you berate her, if that’s alright.”

Thancred lowered his hand, clenching it into a fist. “Alright. But she had better have something reasonable for us.”

The Warrior of Light gave a characteristic nod, before launching into her justification for sparing the Ascian: “I can’t rightfully kill a tempered person - no matter who they are. Especially if I believe I can do something about it. If Emet-Selch proves to no longer be under the influence of Zodiark, then I shall judge his character on its own and from there decide how best he should atone for all that he has done. I believe that remaining here in Amaurot will both allow me an opportunity to learn more about its people and provide a better environment for Emet-Selch to open up in.”

Y’shtola raised an eyebrow. “But what if he tries to kill you despite not being tempered any longer?”

“I doubt he will - call it a gut feeling - but even then, without Zodiark’s power available to him and the auracite binding his personal aetheric abilities, there is little he could do to harm me or anyone else.”

Urianger nodded in understanding as she finished her speech, while the Leveilleur twins processed the new information and Thancred sighed heavily, Ryne patting him on the arm.

The Crystal Exarch’s face shifted from bewildered to begrudgingly understanding as the Warrior of Light spoke her piece, and when at last she finished he was the first to ask a question: “You… you spared a _genocidal maniac_ because you believed that he wasn’t acting of his own accord?”

“Yes. It’s kind of obvious that he was _not_ lying about being tempered when he began to rant and rave about how, in his ‘new world,’ there would only be darkness, and _darkness_ this and _darkness_ that.” She moved her free hand to the side as if to exaggerate the point, the Exarch shaking his head in response.

“I understand neither your uncommon compassion nor your resolution, but so long as you believe that he is unable to hurt you or any of us any longer, I see no reason to preclude you from judging for yourself his character and actions when no longer under the influence of Zodiark,” the Exarch said, fists clenched and glaring daggers at the Warrior of Light.

Alphinaud glanced at the Exarch for a moment before nodding. “I trust that whatever decision you end up making in the end is the right one, and that none of us will regret entrusting this burden to you. Are we in agreement?” He looked back at the other Scions for gestures of approval or disapproval, and finding mostly the former (Thancred merely sighed and shrugged), turned back to face the Warrior of Light. “It’s settled, then. As for your desire to remain here in Amaurot to reconnoiter the city further due to its significance for Emet-Selch… we will leave you here with the condition of contacting us regularly via linkpearl.” The Warrior of Light nodded curtly, before flashing her friends a small smile and thumbs-up.

As the Scions said their goodbyes to the hero-of-the-day, Hades’ eyes opened slightly, along with his mouth - teeth shut tightly still.

He took one look at the Warrior of Light, breathed in a soft gasp, and said to no one in particular, “Then it really is you…”

All of the eyes on the roof turned towards him, but by the time any of their owners had processed what had happened, he had passed out again.

Thancred raised an eyebrow, before shrugging again and facing the Warrior of Light. “You should, uh, get going. I’m sure that you and the Ascian have a lot of talking to do.” He patted her shoulder roughly, before joining the rest of the Scions at the edge of the rooftop.

Alisaie glanced at her from the precipice. “Urianger’s broken this illusory magic with a little something of his own, but since the Exarch is spent we’ll have to get back to the Crystarium by… well…” the young elezen woman faced her brother and broke into a devilish grin.

Alphinaud paled faster than the Warrior of Light had ever seen him before, face contorting into a dejected frown. “Don’t even say it.”

Y’shtola yelled at the two of them to hurry up, the rest of their group having already begun the trek to the water’s edge. Alisaie hurriedly waved and ran to join them, dragging her now-disheartened twin behind her.

The Warrior of Light took one final look at the sunrise, before stowing away her spear and slinging her unconscious quarry - who was way lighter than he looked - over her shoulders and walking through the portal, it closing behind her as soon as she was through.

_Guess I’ve got to find my “guest residence” now..._

* * *

The Warrior of Light, after undergoing considerable difficulty in making her way to the “apartment” afforded to her by Hades’ gifted residency papers, was finally inside the elevator up to it. She ran out of the cage so as not to get stuck in it, before slowing down - her legs weary and arms wearier still from carrying a person around a giant’s city all day.

Maybe her friends had made it back to shore by now; she wasn’t sure how long it had been since they had split paths but it felt like it had been a lot longer than it probably was. Shaking her head, she continued on her way to the all-too-big door that the Amaurotine at reception had directed her to. Said Amaurotine was, much to her surprise, not wondering why she wanted to stay in Amaurot just before the Final Days began - instead they had wondered first, where she was (they had to lean over the counter to see her), and then who was the other child knocked out over her shoulders, before giving her a mild reprimand for “roughhousing and then not even letting anyone know afterwards.” She swore that they had even given her a quizzical look as she asked for directions to _her_ room and not her guardians’, but in the end the receptionist had gone along with it.

The door opened automatically as she approached, massive stone sliding quietly over the hubbub of a city reincarnated. It closed not long after she managed to make her way into the set of rooms, and to her dismay all of the furniture was Amaurotine-sized as well. Good thing she knew how to jump long distances - ten or so yalms was no biggie - although she _really_ wasn’t in the mood to. Despite her exhaustion, she would very much prefer to sleep in a bed, no matter its size relative to her, rather than on the ground.

Straining, she hobbled over to what appeared to be the sole bedroom in the place - apparently Hades had assumed she’d be here by herself - before coming to a rest on the wooden bedframe that looked like it was ripped straight out of some place in high Ishgard. She laid Hades down there, against the bed “pillar,” before mustering her strength for a jump onto the bed.

Caring not how she landed on said furniture - only that she did - she sprawled herself out on the ginormous covers, limbs and tail flung carelessly as she was sure she once did in her youth.

Sparing no time to reflect on the events of the night and day prior, the Warrior of Light closed her heavy eyes and fell asleep to the distant sound of water dripping.


	2. Remembrance

The soft glow of dawn had yet to break the sky as an Amaurotine transport vessel flew through the twisting spires and highrises of its home city, aetheric engines humming quietly amidst the light passenger traffic.

A familiar place, a familiar time - a memory, distorted through the Echo. Whose?

The Warrior of Light’s perspective shifted abruptly, now showing the interior of the passenger craft. The person whose perspective she was looking from raised their head to look outside at the metropolis beneath, illuminated by the gentle blue glow of pedestrian lamps.

_“It’s good to see you again, Amaurot,”_ they said, words mumbled in a language she did not know and yet could understand without trying. The city gradually slowed beneath them as the ship came to a stop, before descending and setting down onto a high rooftop.

The vessel’s door opened quickly, sliding up and allowing wind to blow through the compartment. The Amaurotine in the pilot chair looked back and gestured for the passenger to exit the vehicle, the person giving a short wave in thanks for the flight. Their hand was armored, but underneath remained the communal Amaurotine robes, if mildly worn. 

Just as they were about to exit the vehicle, the pilot called out to them, _“You remember where you’re going, right?”_

They turned and nodded. _“To Serenity Gardens, right?”_

The pilot gave her echo a nod, flicking their helmeted head to the side. _“You’d best be off, then. Wouldn’t want to keep ‘em waiting overlong.”_

Her echo exited the vessel swiftly before it took off, causing a gust that made their robes splay in front of them, edges frayed and burnt. The robes settled down after a moment and the person continued onward for quite a while, sparing little time to admire the beautiful architecture and artistry of the grand city around them. The Warrior of Light was disappointed: she wanted to see Amaurot in its heyday, but her echo had other plans.

Eventually they came upon a park, the first rays of sun at last rising between the buildings.

On the far side of the park stood another Amaurotine leaning over the side of the railing. Her echo seemed to focus in on them in recognition, before moving forward, armored boots clanking on the pavement.

As she neared them, they turned and she saw their mask. It was red and angular, much more angular than the common Amaurotine headgear. Whoever this was, they were a Convocation member, an instinct told the Warrior of Light. They all had special masks. Come to think of it, wasn’t that -

_“Pleasure to meet you,”_ a familiar voice said, in a forgotten tongue.

Recognition overcame her echo as they froze and looked down. _“E-Emet-Selch. Forgive me my manners, sir, had I known that it was you I’d have-”_

He cut them off. _“Please, I’m still off work - no need for excessive formalities. Plus, it’s what, just past six? You and I are both too tired for this!”_ He chuckled, her echo forcing out a similar noise in response. The Amaurotine man patted the railing near him, and her echo accepted the offer, standing next to him.

Emet-Selch faced the sunrise again, hues dulled by the fog of memory. He remained there in contemplation for a moment before talking. _“Sorry for all the secrecy around this meeting, I didn’t want to scare you too much.”_ He admired the view for a moment before continuing, _“The Convocation has been talking a lot about you, you know. The hero who held off those… things in Arcadia for several weeks.”_ He looked her echo up and down. _“Though it seems it’s taken its toll on you.”_

_“I have seen better days, yes,”_ her echo said, facing Emet-Selch. _“But… why have you came to meet me instead of one of your lackeys? Surely you have more important things to be doing than standing in a park this early in the morning and talking to me.”_

He cocked his head to one side, indicating curiosity. _“Why not? Things have been quiet lately, outside of this. Also, Igeyorhm said that it would be good for me to get out for once. Lahabrea immediately agreed with her; I swear, he is whipped... ”_

Her echo laughed at this, as a small breeze blew through the trees behind them. Children had started to come out to play, blissfully unaware of the two adults in close proximity. 

Emet-Selch turned and looked at the little ones, still leaned against the railing. _“You know, we’ve had this little chat, but I still know very little about you and your talents.”_ He faced her echo. _“Would you be alright with getting to know each other better?”_

Her echo tilted their head slightly. _“As… friends? Not as superior and inferior?”_

_“Sure - as friends.”_ He stood up from the railing, looking upwards. _“Well, I’d best get going. Long day ahead for me - even off work - but you should probably rest. You look like you need it.”_ He gave her echo a nod, before beginning to walk off. _“I’ll let you know when we can meet up. Until then?”_

Her echo nodded. _“Until then.”_

* * *

The Warrior of Light awoke with a start, eyes wide and tail flicking back-and-forth quickly. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before groaning with the post-echo headache, moving toward the edge of the bed 

_What was that? Was that Hades’ memory?_

She shook her head and felt around her cheeks and chin, feeling newly formed bruises on her facial scales. Luckily enough, her legs felt considerably less sore than yesterday but there was mild discomfort as she stood up and walked to the edge of the bed.

Hopping down, she confirmed that Hades was where she left him - still unconscious against the bedpost - before walking over to the apartment door. She took her journal out and made a list of items that she needed soon - foodstuffs, potable water, clothing, and medical equipment for Hades - before heading out to the city below.

The receptionist said hello and bid her good day as she walked past. She considered asking them for directions but thought better of it - they still viewed her as a child, after all. Maybe Hythlodaeus would have something useful to tell her if she could find him.

As the Warrior of Light walked around, she felt that same pang of curiosity as during the dream - now that she was here to stay for a while, perhaps she could explore the city. Even though it was a mere shadow of its former self, it was still incredibly beautiful and enigmatic. She could understand his motives for wanting it back, even if she couldn’t agree with them.

After wandering for an hour or two she came upon an Amaurotine who, based off their reaction to seeing her, she had already met. They greeted her and she confirmed that they were indeed Hythlodaeus, so she decided to ask him if he could tell her where some of what she needed was.

She gestured like she was about to speak, and he knelt down so she didn’t have to talk so loud or strain her neck very much. The Amaurotine listened as she read the necessities off of her list, and when she finished he took a moment to think about where such things might be.

_“You could try the Bureau of Administration. I’m sure that they have supplies there, and if you act like you’re running errands for your parents I think they will give it to you,”_ he said, before giving her a once-over. _“Your appearance has changed, are you aware?”_

The Warrior of Light looked over herself briefly before turning back to the shade. “I’ll check it out later,” she sighed.

Remembering something she wanted to ask him, she furrowed her eyebrows. “Hythlodaeus, I’m sure that you’ve noticed a major difference in how your fellow shades act now compared to before my fight with Emet-Selch. Do you have any idea as to why that is?”

Hythlodaeus gave her his best quizzical look before shrugging. _“I don’t know, but I suppose you're right. It seems as if the prospect of oblivion has been lifted from their minds; I’ll ponder over it some.”_

The Warrior of Light thanked him and began to head toward what she thought was the Bureau of Administration before Hythlodaeus stopped her and pointed in the opposite direction. She put on a sheepish smile and headed in the direction that he indicated.

As she walked off, Hythlodaeus called after her, _“I know that the fight against Emet-Selch must have been taxing on you. Please, take as much time as you need to rest. You seem very tired.”_

The Warrior of Light paused for a moment, smiling to herself and shaking her head. “I’ll be fine, Hythlodaeus. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay.”

The Amaurotine shade kept looking at her as she walked off, before returning to his own stroll. _“She must be starting to… I can see it in her soul, yes. Maybe there is yet…”_

He shook his head, dispelling those kinds of thoughts from his mind. He had no right to meddle in her affairs. _“Let her figure it out on her own. I promised that I would mull over my fellows’ situation, didn’t I?”_

* * *

The Warrior of Light arrived at the Bureau of Administration at, apparently, a very busy time. The line was extraordinarily long for all three clerks, and she didn’t even know which one she wanted to be in. She deflated at the sight, sighing loud enough to attract the attention of a nearby Amaurotine.

They looked at her with a confusion that she had come to expect from most Amaurotines and she sighed again in response, which prompted them to address her.

_“What’s wrong, little one? You seem troubled.”_

Going with what Hythlodaeus had suggested, she put on her best doe eyes and looked up at them. “My parents sent me out on an errand, but I don’t know which line to stand in. Can you help?”

The Amaurotine’s tone of voice went softer. _“What did they send you out to get?”_

She kicked her foot, acting shy. “...food, water, medicine…”

_“And they couldn’t make all this themselves for you?”_ The Amaurotine had tilted their head far to one side, obviously in disbelief.

The Warrior of Light was now on the spot, and had to think of how to respond quickly. “Um… they were busy, and I can’t do it myself?”

Seemingly satisfied at this, the Amaurotine pointed to the farthest line and said to her, _“You can give the details to the clerk over there, they should have what you need soon.”_

She beamed up at them, before running over to join the end of the far line. After waiting for about half an hour - this line seemed to be the fastest, thankfully - it was her turn to talk to the Amaurotine behind the desk.

_“What do you need, little one?”_

They listened intently as she rattled off her list, the Amaurotine making careful note of everything she said. They paused at ‘medicine.’

_“What kind of medicine?”_

The Warrior of Light put her hand to her chin, regretting not picking up healing when she could. “General?”

The Amaurotine wrote something down and then looked at her for a moment. Without the mask, she imagined they blinked once. _“Describe to me the circumstances for which you need the medicine.”_

After giving a general account of what had happened to both herself and Hades - omitting the whole ‘he’s Emet-Selch’ bit - they seemed to know what she needed.

_“Aetheric deficiency, then. I think we have just the thing.”_ They wrote down another item, before handing the list to a nearby Amaurotine. The clerk told her to wait, and she moved to the side to allow for another Amaurotine in line to state their needs.

She had only waited for a couple of minutes when an Amaurotine approached her with a trolley her size, filled with normal-sized food items, a few jugs of water, medical miscellany, and a strange contraption that she assumed was for Hades.

The assistant told her to return if she needed more, and the Warrior of Light thanked them, grabbing the trolley and beginning the trek back to her living quarters.

* * *

As the Warrior of Light left the elevator and made her way to the apartment, she began thinking about possible ways for her to rectify the size issue between herself and her furniture.

_Well, they had children, so they probably have children’s rooms…_

She hadn’t seen any rooms her size, though, so there must have been some other way of creating them.

Her eyes widened slightly and she decided to look around her apartment for some way of modifying the scale, maybe a control panel of some kind... 

It took her a few minutes, but she found what she was looking for: a holographic terminal, which moved itself down to accomodate someone her size. It wasn’t displayed in the Eorzea script, but she was surprised to find that she had no difficulties understanding it anyways. After messing around a bit, she found what she was looking for - scale adjustment. After changing it to what she thought would be a size more suitable for ‘commonfolk,’ she was prompted with a warning: several objects inside were not part of the apartment’s ‘domain’ and would be affected by the change in unpredictable ways. The terminal recommended her to take them outside so as to not damage them.

After placing a still-asleep Hades on the trolley and wheeling it outside, she went back in and initiated the scaling system, and after a moment she was faced with a set of rooms that she didn’t have to jump in just to get around.

Satisfied, she pulled the trolley back inside and began to distribute the foodstuffs around her now normally sized kitchen, before going into the bathroom and storing the medicine there. She placed the strange machine beside where she would be keeping Hades for the foreseeable future: the couch. 

She picked up his unconscious form and placed him on the sofa, before restraining his hands with rope tied to the supports - after all, she still couldn’t trust him. Content for the time being, she decided to explore the apartment now that it was more conducive to someone with her height and stride. 

The Warrior of Light found that the space afforded to her was much larger than any room she’d been given before; it seemed that Hades had been generous in his creation. Along with the living room, kitchen, and her bedroom with the adjoining bathroom, there was a clothes closet, a small balcony, and a storage closet.

In the clothes closet she had found an assortment of clothes for both someone her size and someone of Hades’ size, which was no doubt the apartment’s doing, as she had never requested that. She changed out of her armor into nightclothes and hung the pieces up, leaving her trident next to her bed - just in case. 

The balcony was barely furnished, with two small cushioned chairs and an accompanying table in front of them. There were some pots with marine flora in them, an odd but expected sight due to the city’s presence underwater. She was unsure how she would care for them, if at all, but decided to look into that later.

The storage closet proved to be the most intriguing of any of the rooms in her apartment. It was oddly filled for a room that she was the first person in - there were several wooden boxes scattered about and a pile of what appeared to be papers in the corner. Had Hades made a mistake when creating this space and put things in it, or was he not thinking about it? She made a mental note to ask him, before poking around a bit more.

The boxes were all filled with something that reminded her of both Allagan and Ironworks video feed, if it were possible to bring that into the physical realm instead of the virtual. The material was glossy and reflected the light, but also smooth and wiggled when shook - maybe some sort of crystal-coated sheet that reacted when exposed to focused aether? She’d have to ask Cid about it when she got the chance, or perhaps Nero. 

These particular images were all focused on the same, singular person: a photo of them with thirteen others, all wearing unique masks - the Convocation, she had to assume - one of them alone, robes decorated in a manner not unlike the person from her Echo vision, and lastly, one of them without any armor, in a friendly pose with… Emet-Selch?

_He had mentioned that he wanted him and them to get to know each other at the end there…_

The idea of Hades living a life that was normal, where he had friends and laughed in good nature, where he went to work and then relaxed at the end of the day, without any sort of guilt or burden on his conscience? Where he _wasn’t_ sneering at her every five seconds and actively plotting six more calamities? It was… 

Foreign.

She put the images back in the box and closed the lid, thinking it better to let the past sleep for the time being. A mild headache worked its way into her forehead as she left the room, and she placed a hand over her brow to soften the pain as she walked into the kitchen to explore its capabilities.

From what she could garner, it featured a plethora of automated food heating and storage systems - technologies that were similar to cooking stoves that she had seen during her travels, except much more advanced, and even a box that froze food to keep it fresh. If they could study some of this, it could both improve existing culinary systems and revolutionize food storage. She would have to include it in her reports to the Scions.

Feeling much better about staying in the city, she continued her search of the apartment, walking into the living room. Opposite the couch she found a large black mirror that was hooked up to several small rectangular boxes that blinked, clearly active. Close by the boxes was a small remote that caused the screen to react and turn on when she pressed a button, causing her to recognize it as a television. She knew that Ironworks and Garlean magitech as well as the Gold Saucer had produced devices of similar make, though this Amaurotine one was much more advanced, it seemed - unlike other versions of this tech, the screen was much clearer and did not fall into static every ten seconds. And if they had some sort of non-wired connectivity with the television… 

The Warrior of Light took out her linkpearl and tomestone, and was glad to see that the apartment, or rather the city, came with excellent reception. It seemed like she would have no issue with contacting the Scions or even sending them images. Direct video connection might even be possible.

She found herself once again marvelling at the technology of Amaurot, even when only partially replicated - at its zenith, it was far past Allag and Garlemald. Once again, she related to the plight of Hades - if only for a moment, before reminding herself that fourteen worlds filled with life weren’t worth being able to call Alisaie from hundreds of malms away.

Now able to see the clocks present in each room, the Warrior of Light noted that it was starting to get late - a feeling confirmed by her drooping eyes. She moved into her bathroom, noticing that, yes, Hythlodaeus was right: her hair had fallen down out of its ponytail and was much shorter, splayed above her forehead in a manner somewhat resembling the unconscious man sleeping on her couch. The similarity caused her to let out a small laugh, before facing herself in the mirror once more. Her eyes had also gained a yellow limnal ring, which, while present on other members of her species, she never had. She assumed that the aether she took in from Hades is what had prompted the change, seeing as both the hair and yellow eyes were features of his.

She showered, and before retiring to bed proper, checked on Hades one last time - he was becoming increasingly pallid, and sweating profusely. A pang of guilt coursed through her, and she decided to try to hook up the machine to the man. Maybe it would help him - she would have no luck talking to a corpse, Ascian or not.

The machine was some sort of contraption attached to a stand, with a long tube coming out of it that ended in a needle. She assumed that she needed to ‘find a vein,’ or so she had heard Krile say once while operating a similar device. Again, she found herself regretting not listening to her healer friends all the times that they had told her to just try it out, but she hadn’t needed it before now! 

She removed Hades’ left glove and rolled up his sleeve, thanking the gods that whatever he was going through in his dreams was also causing him to tighten his muscles, letting her see his veins (or what she thought were veins) clearly. She held back a gulp as she took the needle out of its hanger and carefully moved her hands towards Hades’ veins, steeling her nerves. Even though she was able to stop herself from freaking out in combat, she _hated_ blood. As she was about to puncture the skin on his arm, ilms away from his vein, he jolted in his sleep. This caused her to jump in turn, and miss where she had intended to place the needle. She gasped and ran to the bathroom, taking out and ripping off a piece of gauze, before returning to the (thankfully) unconscious man on the couch. This time, she was able to get the needle in without issue and turned the machine on, the contraption humming quietly.

Standing up and looking down at Hades, the Warrior of Light felt a strange sense of unease. Whatever had him acting up, even while unconscious, would not be fun to deal with in the waking world. She put those thoughts aside for the time being; what was more important at the moment was sleeping - hopefully without any major interruptions from the Echo.

The bed remained as soft as it was the night prior, despite being much more suited to her size. She had plenty of room to shift and move around if need be, and the complement of pillows was just right. This time, she allowed herself to drift off into slumber instead of exhaustion forcing her, thoughts of the ancient city around her and days long gone teasing at her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this seemed a bit... anticlimactic? Uneventful? We're still in the build-up *to* the build-up, but things will pick up soon.
> 
> Yours, as always.


	3. An Eternity, Alone

Immense, searing pain caused tremors that wracked his body. The burning hot aether of the Source’s greatest hero, eight times rejoined, cut through his very soul. And then… 

Nothing. 

Hades removed the hand that was shielding his face from the Warrior of Light’s metaphysical limit break. It fell to his side, almost numb, and he released a deep sigh. 

“So, that was the Warrior of Light’s _true_ power, then?” Hades chuckled. “I suppose I underestimated her.”

The robes cloaking his form shifted as he sat up, groaning. She had really done a number on him, hadn’t she? From his forehead all the way to his calves, everything hurt. It didn’t seem like she had managed to cause significant _internal_ damage, but externally, it all felt like he’d been to the depths of hell and back.

_I suppose I did ask her to give me all that she’s got._

He clapped his face softly and opened his eyes, finding not the site of their battle, but rather a vast expanse of nothingness. As he looked to his left and right, nothing artificial or natural could be made out around him. It reminded him of the Empty, or at least how it was described from the people of Norvrandt, based on what little interaction he had with them.

There was no wind, no sound, no sky. Just… nothing, expanding into infinity. 

Hades laughed. If this was her way of punishment, of _atonement_ , then she’d have to try harder. He had gone through far worse and came out all the better, or so he thought. He had to - for Amaurot, for Zodiark, for _he-_

A powerful migraine overtook him them, sending him gasping to the “floor,” gloved hands touching the semi-solid ground beneath him. After a moment, he began to recover - just enough to raise his left hand and snap his fingers, expecting to be relieved from this mortal pain…

It persisted. He tried again, and nothing happened. He snapped his fingers a couple more times for good measure, attempting to coax his aether into stopping its convulsions, but still there was no response.

The hand went to his head instead in an effort to dull the pain as he stood slowly, back hunched far forward and arms hanging loose. It reminded him of a scene from not long earlier.

_“Weary wanderer…”_

This time, it felt as if he was mocking himself.

 _“You’ve no fight left to fight! No_ life _left to_ live _!”_

The memory of his voice continued, unabated. He put both hands to his head in an effort to calm the pain, which only increased with each word. Scenes from his past - scenes he had thought long gone thanks to Zodiark - flashed in his mind, as his soul felt like it was tearing itself apart.

_“Who are you? No one. Nothing.”_

Out of nowhere, he felt a second presence at his aether, soothing this terrible pain. The voice stopped, and after a moment his aether itself had returned to normal. Yet, he felt drained.

Catching his breath, he sat down again and rubbed his arms, in an attempt to calm his nerves. What… who was that? Had someone... no, some _thing_ helped him? Why would they? He had no friends - most of the other Ascians either hated him or were dead, and he sure wasn’t getting any outside help.

Considering his current circumstances - especially his lack of capacity to enact change wherever he was - Hades decided to just wait it out until something else happened that caught his interest. After millennia with nothing to keep you true company besides your thoughts, you learned to keep yourself entertained.

* * *

“Well, you’re in a sorry state.”

Hades tilted his head to the side to indicate that he had heard whoever this was, and laughed. “You think so?” He shook his head. “I’m more bored than anything, to tell the truth.”

The person approached him, coming to a stop in his line of sight. He looked up at them and noticed they were lending a hand, presumably for him to take.

Figuring he had nothing better to do, he accepted the offer. As he stood, he noted that this person was dressed in Allagan armor, and a unique one at that. One that he had made himself, during the empire’s ascension.

Hades narrowed his eyes in recognition. “General. What are you doing here?”

They shrugged. “Same reason as you. I’ve been stuck here.” The Allagan began to walk, prompting him to follow.

After a long period of quiet, Hades broke the silence: “What’s the point in walking, anyways? There’s nothing here.”

His old friend turned to him for a moment before looking ahead. “I figured it’d jog your mind, maybe make you think a bit more than sitting lonely would. Seems I was wrong about that, mister dark-and-brooding.”

At this, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. The commander had evidently had enough, and they sighed as they took off their helmet and hung it loosely at one side. Hades’ eyes widened, his mind finally remembering what exactly his relationship to this… woman, had been. They were lovers, in a time long since past.

He shook his head. “You… you died during the early conquests. Xande and I buried you. How are you here?”

Now, she scoffed at him. “You’re right, Hades. I’m not her, anyways. This,” she gestured to herself, “is merely how your mind sees me. Understand?”

“No.”

“Too bad; you will.” She snapped her fingers, and the space around them rapidly changed to a sparse, but limited, white room.

Hades frowned. “How is it that _you_ have power here and I do not?”

The Allagan smirked. “I’ve been appointed as your warden for the time being. The auracite saw it fit to put a _reasonable_ part of you in charge of your main self.”

Now he was even more confused. “What?”

Her smile dropped. “Do I have to spell it out for you, idiot? You didn’t get all of the auracite out when you fought the Warrior of Light, and some of it is now binding you in here while she does what she will with your body outside, in the real world.”

 _What she will…?_ His eyebrows furrowed. _Like-_

Another finger-snap drew his attention back to this ‘reality.’ “Hey, idiot, now is not the time to be fantasizing about our worst enemy.”

Hades scoffed. “As if. She’s much too short for my liking, anyways. This form’s back causes enough problems. Also, I doubt that He would let me…” he elected not to end that thought, and cleared his throat.

His companion’s face was showing signs of minor irritation, and he supposed that he _was_ stalling. “Do you want to keep bantering, or would you prefer we get this over with?”

“I guess,” the Amaurotine sighed. “But, what do you mean by being ‘part of me?’ As in sundering?”

“Not by Hydaelyn, but yes.” What was he supposed to garner from that? Such a cryptic answer could do him no good…

This spectre of his past lover gave a smug smile. “Well, I suppose that this form is working to get you thinking, which is what I was supposed to do. From here, I guess we’ll…” she trailed off.

“We’ll what?” 

“Ah, I’ve got it!” She summoned a table and slammed her hands on it. “We’re going to make you _feel._ ”

Hades crossed his arms and huffed. “Good luck with that. Zodiark only lets me feel bored and power-mad, at the best of times.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing that He’s not here to stop you anymore, huh?”

His eyes widened. _What did she just say?_

He had no time to consider her words any further as she teleported them to the Allagan capital in the middle of the Fourth Calamity, tremors causing the earth beneath them to undulate. Normally, such a scenario would have no effect on him - thanks to His temperance - but Hades began to experience… he had forgotten, it had been so long. His chest hurt, but not in a “gunshot wound” way, rather a sadder, more personal way.

A woman tripped over a flung rock nearby, and Hades watched as she scrambled to her feet before being crushed by another rock, her children and partner watching, helpless. Screams echoed in the distance - cries for deliverance, shelter, peace… 

And they would have none of it, because of his machinations. Hades felt sick; rotten to the core, almost. 

_Why am I - it’s like Amaurot all over again._

A hand went to his head, the other to the side of the nearest wall for support. 

His companion laughed at this, her form now looking down at him above his slouched position. “Oh, _feeling things_ , are you? It’s been so long, love!”

“Be quiet, shade.” He tried to suppress his pain, but only somewhat succeeded.

“Doesn’t it feel _bad_ , Hades? The knowledge of all this destruction that you’ve caused, of all these lives that you’ve _ruined_. I only wish I had gotten to see this earlier.”

“No, I feel nothing,” he snarled. “You should be the sad one. You’re a part of me.”

Her presence darkened. “I accepted my guilt a while ago. I’ve also not been able to influence your actions about these sorts of things for the past million years, so… I don’t feel much at all about this.”

Hades’ mouth dropped, but he recomposed himself. “Well, it’s not like I had a choice in the matter, either. You know, with Zodiark and everything.”

The Allagan woman rolled her eyes. “Spare me your justifications. They will get you nowhere - after all, you’re only talking to yourself.”

She showed him two more calamities - the Sixth and the Seventh, two more caused by his hands and his alone. He bore witness to the drowning cries of the denizens of Eorzea, and watched as Bahamut unleashed his fury on Mor Dhona and Cartenau, pleas for divine intervention falling on deaf ears amongst the burning masses.

All the while, she taunted him. Prompting him to let these awful emotions in, to cave and allow himself the twisted pleasure of feeling guilt for once in his nigh-immortal life. He denied her, of course - evasion and self-justification were his only friends on the rare nights that Zodiark gave him leeway to remember Amaurot, to remember his failure and his sins.

And then, they were back in that blank room, a table between them. She gave him a wave and a smug grin before fading away, leaving him alone.

He sighed and leaned forward on the table. There was no reason why he should be feeling drained, why he should be feeling like this was his fault. In an effort to drive these emotions away, Hades mentally recited his old adage: that these were not people, they were _lesser_ , they were nothing compared to Amaurot.

A hand on his shoulder. Armored, based on the weight. “Is that what you really believe?”

Elezen, female - he could tell by her voice. Official founder of the Knights Dragoon, and another one on his list of significant others. Why were his wardens choosing to show themselves to him as his mortal lovers?

“You’ll find out in due time, Hades,” she said, removing her hand from his shoulder.

He faced her. “I forget that you can tell what I’m thinking.”

The dragoon shrugged as she moved to face him from the other side of the table. “It comes with the job.”

They stood there in silence for a moment before he spoke up: “So, where are you taking me now? What ‘horrors’ caused by mine own actions do you have to show for me?”

She paused, staring at him. “Nothing, actually. This is self-realization, not a cycle of guilt. I’m merely here to remind you that… well, we’re free now. Your duty lies with no one, unless you want it to.”

He nodded. “If by ‘free’ you mean not tempered, then yes, I suppose I am. I harbor many doubts that the Warrior of Light will let us be _free_ once I get back.”

The Elezen nodded. “Right again, dear. Without Zodiark’s will subsuming yours, though, I think you have a chance to work on that as opposed to before. She seems to be… receptive, if nothing else. After all, she didn’t kill us when given the chance.” She let out a high laugh before settling down, looking straight at him. “I highly suggest that you take her up on that. You may never know if she’ll allow it again.”

“But what of Amaurot? Of my dues to those who laid down their lives for us so long ago?”

She shook her head. “Hades, I don’t know how many times I must tell you: you are freed of that burden. The one thing that you should be concerning yourself with is keeping the Warrior of Light from killing you as soon as you wake up.”

Another dissipation. The scenario reminded him of a book he had read once, about how a man had his heart warmed in the coldest of times. Well, he didn’t need his heart warmed. It was _plenty_ warm, if he wanted it to be. Would they show him his future next?

_Nabriales always hated me. There’s no way that he would appear here, with some of the people I cherish the most…_

Suddenly, Hades was back on the streets of Garlemald. Based on the skyline, the time was around when his reign as Emperor was just beginning. He looked around and recognized this location immediately. In around ten years, this dingy street would be beautiful - a wonderful park, new buildings, lamplights, the whole deal. Done by request of his wife… 

“Solus?”

_Speak of an angel and she will appear._

For what felt like one time too many ‘today,’ he turned and faced this incarnation of one of his lovers. The most recent one, in this case. His Empress, the lowly woman he found scrounging around this very street for food for her ailing parents and brothers… 

“Is this still the auracite’s doing, shade?”

She nodded and sauntered over to him. “I trust I don’t need to remind you about any of that by this point. You are a smart man, after all.”

As she got closer, he moved back ever so slightly. This caused her to frown. “Look, I’m not here to make you feel down or confused about yourself or anything like that. If anything, I’m the ‘good’ one of the three of us that you’ve seen.”

He looked away from her, desperately searching for anything else to focus on. She was the only mortal that he found himself truly in love with, and that in turn made him feel like he had betrayed _her_ trust, betrayed the hope that _she_ had put into him. It made him feel sick, even more so than any conjured image of any apocalypse could. His star, extinguished… 

Hearing a soft chuckling, he turned back to the spectre of his wife to find her the source, looking amused at him. “Oh, you’re funny. Remembering your ‘soul mate’ or whatever the mortals call it when confronted with your own wife?”

“N-no, I-” he stammered out. “You just caused me to think of _her_ , that’s all. Zodiark didn’t let me - He must have been afraid that it could compromise me.”

“Well, good thing that He’s not here to do that, is He?” She smiled up at him. “Come on, then, Solus. There’s another stop or two before you’re out of here.”

They walked for a while before stopping at another rusted and dark street in Garlemald. His wife snapped her fingers and the street suddenly shifted to its new self, cleaned and updated after he was convinced to spare some resources for those… less fortunate.

He didn’t feel like wasting time thinking this over himself, so he asked her bluntly, “And the point of this is?”

The Garlean woman beamed at him. “To show you that you can affect good change when you want to.” She poked at his heart. “That what’s in here isn’t evil by nature. I believe - nay, I _know_ that deep down inside there is still the Hades who would sacrifice his life to buy one single day more for Amaurot, that the man who would laugh in earnest and support the one he loves without condition isn’t fully corrupted by the dark.”

Hades looked down. “Do you really feel like that’s true, my love?”

She grabbed his arm. “Solus, please. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to tell you today, but I _know_ that it is. Your heart, your soul - they are tainted, sure.” She paused. “...but they don’t have to be. Not unless you want it that way.”

He felt a genuine smile come onto his face for the first time that day, maybe even for the first time in millennia, as he placed a hand of his own over his familiar shade’s hand. It was then he noticed that his once black-and-purple robes had since faded to gray, and that a small, but noticeable shadow had grown beneath him, formed by the lamp shining above them.

The Empress was smiling at him again. “I told you so.”

And then he was back in that damned white room again, still leaned against the table. In front of him were the three spectres he had seen on this journey, and they coalesced into one singular being - a form that he had thought Zodiark had made him forget, but evidently… He had not.

The Amaurotine in front of him looked at him in the way that she always had back in the days before Amaurot began to fall, her robes forever frayed but yet more comforting and warm than anything he had seen in the past million years. The lance at her back was exactly as he had remembered it, great beauty and care in its design. Even as little more than a ghost version of its true self, the aura it alone put off was incredible. It made him think of her showing off whatever new skill her mentor had taught her when the two of them had time to spare.

“Camniel… I… “ He found himself at a loss for words, now confronted by the aetherial beauty of his first true love.

_“I’m not her, Hades. You know that. But... they were.”_

His eyes widened. “...what?”

The figure changed again to his Empress. “Me, silly. All three of us. We were reincarnations of _her_ , so don’t feel bad for loving us - the aether is all the same. Would that you had known...”

“But, I thought you had no aether left to incarnate with. I believed you lost forever to the lifestream…” He choked out, tears forming in his eyes. It wasn’t fair. How had he been cheated out of this all these years? Zodiark had him believe she was dead!

 _“She is too resilient for that, you know. Being ‘the one who stood alone against the storm’ and all that.”_ The gray-and-white robed figure had begun to fade away in front of him, and he leaned across the table to grasp at her, to feel her aether against his one last time, even if it was just a facsimile.

“Don’t leave me, please!” He yelled, tears running down his face. “I need you.”

_“She is always with you, Hades. I only wish we had realized that sooner. Her sacrifices… her legacy - it lives on in you. Remember that. Remember that she lived.”_

And then, the shade was gone. A tiny, but vastly important part of his soul pulled itself back to where it should have been since that fateful day, but he didn’t notice. His mind was racing elsewhere.

Hades was alone again, as he had been one million years ago when Nabriales and Igeyorhm had forced him, Lahabrea, and Elidibus into the rift to avoid being cleft fourteen times with the rest of their world. 

Alone, as he had been the day that the woman he loved died fighting him and his god.

For the first time since then, he let himself cry true tears. For Camniel, for Amaurot, for all the mortals he had killed in his crusade, even. It may take him a while to come around to their existence, but… he had an inkling that maybe he wouldn’t mind it - in time.

The room and the table faded away, leaving him alone in that cold emptiness. If this was reflective of his mind, his soul, then he could understand.

Without _her_ , or a love for _her_ , there was nothing. It was funny how often he had mocked mortals for allowing one singular person, or place, or thing, or goal to define them, and yet here he was - having done the same exact thing for thousands of years without even knowing it. He truly was a royal fool, wasn’t he?

He leaned back onto the ground and exhaled deeply, staring up at the lack of a sky. Inside, he felt empty and alone, without even the artificial forms of the ones he loved to keep him company.

_If this is to be my fate, auracite, then I accept it. Leave me here if you decide to, I won’t mind._

Time passed as silent tears trickled down his face, Hades preferring to let the feelings come rather than deny them any longer. It was welcome, in a strange way. That he would finally be free to feel, to think. Salvation would come not in the arms of the god of his planet, but from the god of his star…

Hades closed his eyes and let the tears pool, memories of happy days working their way into the forefront of his conscious. Their first meeting, her accepting his offer to join the Convocation, the time they spent around the city and in private - him, her first friend; her, his first love. All of it was bittersweet - now, he was able to realize that those moments could not be recreated, that Zodiark had made undeniable promises to keep him willing. He cursed the dark god, thankful to the Warrior of Light that he was able to even do such a thing. Maybe he should tell her that...

At this thought, the ground around him shifted as an aperture formed from the air in front of him. It opened, and inside he saw another shade of Camniel, offering a hand for him to take. Was this the auracite judging him worthy?

Sparing no time to have that question answered, he grabbed the spectre’s hand. The Amaurotine pulled him through the portal, and for a split second he swore that her form changed to that of a certain other limit-breaking lancer he knew…

Hades awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only sad boys this chapter. No happy Hades’s allowed.  
> he’ll get his headpats eventually okay
> 
> Yours, ever and always.


End file.
